


Mischief Speaks

by silveryink



Series: Start Over [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Conversations, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 03:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryink/pseuds/silveryink
Summary: Steve finds their resident god of mischief and decides to have a chat with the prince.





	Mischief Speaks

“This is so sad, Destiny play Despacito.”

Steve overheard that last statement when he walked into the common room to see the god of mischief grin at Peter, who had accidentally stuck to the wall. He stopped in his tracks and stared, though this was hardly the oddest thing he’d seen in the Compound. Loki walked over to the sticky teenager and carefully pried him from the wall. Peter blushed furiously as the god set him on the floor, though he was also smiling.

“You keep up with memes?” Steve asked Loki.

“Of course I do,” Loki replied easily. Everything about him seemed _easy._ Steve wondered if the trickster truly was as carefree as he made it out to be. If not, it was a brilliant façade. “I couldn’t half keep up with this one-” he gestured towards Peter -  “otherwise. Also, they’re amusing.”

Peter snorted. “Thanks for rescuing me from the wall.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Loki said, waving a hand nonchalantly. “Un-sticking them from smooth surfaces.”

Peter grinned.

“Don’t you have homework to do?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Off you go, then,” Loki said, ruffling the boy’s hair. Steve grinned at the affectionate gesture. The trickster was hard not to like, now that he thought about it. Loki had become pretty close to Peter in the time he’d been here, and, surprisingly, Tony. The inventor and the trickster had worked together to create Destiny, a semi-sentient AI program who seemed more alive than even FRIDAY and Karen. Steve suspected this to be a result of Loki’s influence and maybe his magic.

Peter bounced off to his room, snatching up his bag from the couch with a small “Bye, Mr. Rogers!”

Steve laughed and met Loki’s gaze. “He’s a handful.”

“A good handful.”

Steve hummed in agreement. Loki flopped down on the couch, curling in the corner, and picked up a book to read. Steve had noticed this about the prince of New Asgard, that he was an avid reader. The few conversations they’d had before revolved around books. Loki was also well caught up in modern slang and pop culture and didn’t mind bringing Steve up to speed. He made a good enough conversationalist.

Steve couldn’t help but compare this version of Loki and the version he’d seen in New York all those years ago. At the time, everything about Loki had been sharp, from his slicked-back hair to the way he’d spoken. This Loki seemed… softer. Younger, even. Not like he was carrying an invisible burden on his shoulders. Steve knew what the burden was, now, and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. No one should have to go through the amount of pain the trickster had.

“You’re staring,” Loki’s voice snapped Steve out of his thoughts.

“Uhh…”

“I am not offended,” Loki said. No, Steve thought he looked amused. “I was just observing.”

“I was just thinking.” A thought struck him and he asked, “I was wondering, I’ve only seen you read – and play the occasional prank – since you came here. What exactly did you do, on Asgard?”

Loki frowned. “I trained amongst the warriors, though I was always smaller and ‘weaker’ than them – though what I lacked in size-” _Lacked?_ The man was six three – “I made up for in speed and agility. I also attended diplomatic meetings. Usually those were expected of the crown prince, but I had more of a knack and interest in foreign affairs than Thor. I also studied many languages, because unlike Thor, I’m not proficient in All-Speak, and I practiced _seidr_.”

“ _Seidr…_ that’s like magic?”

“It _is_ magic,” Loki explained. “And it was considered a woman’s art. Looked down upon by the warriors, who thought that the best way to win an argument was by bashing heads and hitting the problem with blunt weapons. _Seidr_ , on the other hand, operates in subtle ways. It is an intricate art. You’re an artist, aren’t you?”

Steve nodded.

“You’d understand that art is more complicated than it seems. But you can make it look easy. That is a fair analogy to _seidr_. But nowhere close. Nothing compares to being an inborn mage. It’s just so…” Loki trailed off.

“That good, huh?” Steve asked, studying the prince’s expression carefully. Loki laughed. “You have no idea.”

Steve smiled. Loki continued, “As I was saying, it was considered a woman’s art. And I was the first royal in generations to practice magic.”

“What about Odin and Thor?”

“The All-father draws on the powers of Gungnir, his staff.” Loki suddenly winced. “Drew.”

Right. Odin was dead, and Gungnir destroyed.

“As for Thor, his powers are a variant of _seidr_. The power of nature flows through him. The storm is a part of him, like shapeshifting is a part of me.”

“You can shapeshift?”

Loki smiled faintly. “I caused quite the ruckus as a child.”

Steve grinned. In the last few days, Loki had played more pranks (all harmless and really amusing) than Steve had ever heard of. He had been sorely reminded that Loki’s title was literally ‘God of Mischief’. He could believe that.

“I would turn into all sorts of creatures. Though mainly I took the form of a snake, wolf or eagle.”

“So…”

“By the Norns,” Loki sighed exasperatedly, catching onto Steve’s train of thought. “Sleipnir was Odin’s steed before I was born. Hela was my sister, Odin’s firstborn. Fenris was her wolf, and I created Jormungand as my coming-of-age task to protect Midgard against external forces. Your ancestors were a bit fanciful.”

“Right.”

“Though the fault is not all theirs,” Loki mused. “Some truths get distorted as they pass through realms.”

Steve nodded. “You mentioned something earlier… All-Speak?”

“Ah. All-Speak is something available to the bloodline of Odin alone. It is a language infused with magic, that makes one understood by all, and understand all languages. No, that’s not true,” Loki said thoughtfully. “A few select languages do not translate across All-Speak. Groot is one such example.”

“I thought you were Odin’s son?”

“Oh, I am,” Loki said. “Though not by birth. Hence the whole bloodline thing. I suppose you could say it's genetic, or hereditary. I was told that I didn’t have the ability for All-Speak because I wasn’t the first in line for the throne, but it didn’t really bother me.”

“So what languages-”

“Thousands,” Loki interrupted. “You forget, I’ve lived for over a millennium, and I was Asgard’s foremost ambassador. I was well-versed in foreign relations and diplomacy. Which is why I retain that position in New Asgard.”

“You’re a good ambassador. It’s no wonder that Thor picked you for the job,” Steve said with a shrug. Loki blinked and smiled. It was a surprised, genuine sort of smile. Steve wondered when someone had last complimented the prince. He made a mental note to do so more in the future. “Do all Asgardians wear their hair long?”

“Not really. Some do, others don’t. Though facial hair is more common.”

Steve’s hand automatically went to his own beard. Loki snorted, somehow passing that off as regal and dignified. “It suits you, Steve, but I think I’ll pass. Now, don’t tell me that’s all the questions you have.”

“Does it – am I bothering you?” Steve was suddenly conscious.

“Not at all. I find curiosity rather refreshing. And honesty. I will answer most, if not all of your questions to the best extent I can.”

Steve nodded absently. “What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“Asgard. How did it look? The palace, what was it…”

Loki hesitated. “I can show you if you like. It’s… I can initiate a temporary link, pass the images along to you.”

“You’re okay with sharing your memories with me?”

“I’m not sharing my memories," Loki explained. "I will be casting an illusion over your eyes to see Asgard as I knew it. Think of it as a virtual reality experience.”

Steve nodded slowly. Loki uncurled from the couch and reached over, gently touching Steve’s temples. Images flooded his mind, and Steve sucked in a breath as he saw towers of gold, a long bridge that lit up in different colours, the palace, sweeping grandly in the heart of the realm. The archives, filled with hundreds of thousands of scrolls, books and digital records. The healing chambers, with technology surpassing even Wakanda (though it was by a close shot). The stables, the meadows, and the training grounds. The marketplace, and the villages that surrounded the palace (which was as big as a town by itself). The orchards.

And finally, a view faded slowly into clarity, as though Loki was hesitant to share it, of the entire realm from the top of the palace. It was breathtaking, unlike anything Steve could have imagined. Steve caught another image along with it, and an idea began to form in his head.

Loki pulled his hands away and sank back into the couch. He closed his eyes, clearly overwhelmed by memories of his home planet. Loki let them pass by him for a minute, before pushing them away. He could let himself be vulnerable in front of Thor, later.

Steve exhaled slowly. “Wow.”

****

There was a small knock on Loki’s door, the next time he returned to the Avengers Compound from New Asgard. Loki made a noise of distaste, which was muffled by the way he was lying face-down on the bed. He was glad that he’d locked the door. If Thor walked in on his undignified sprawl, he would never hear the end of it.

He rolled out of the bed and made his way to the door. It opened with a soft click to an… empty corridor. Loki frowned and peered out both ways before noticing a package on the floor by the entrance.

It was addressed to him in careful and precise lettering, so he picked it up with a frown. He’d seen the writing before but couldn’t remember where. He stepped back inside and closed the door, carefully opening the paper tab. A stack of papers greeted him from inside.

There were easier ways to get him to go through documents he’d need to sign, was all he could think.

Loki grumbled softly as he pulled out the small stack and immediately noticed that it was a different sort of paper than the one used in official documents. The side facing him was blank, so he flipped it over. He sucked in a breath.

It was a pencil sketch of the Observatory.

He sifted through the papers and found more sketches of Asgard, as well as ones that were coloured in and even a few paintings. Each one more realistic and beautiful than the last.

Then came the last sketch – no, a portrait.

A family portrait.

 _His_ family portrait.

His parents were seated on a couch and the two brothers were on the floor at their feet. Frigga had a hand on Loki’s shoulder and was laughing merrily at something he’d said. Loki himself, who had a pleased smirk on his face, was leaning into her touch. Thor was also grinning, and Odin had a small smile on his face.

Loki remembered the scene. It had happened not so long ago, at least in Aesir standards. Their family had been so happy that day, a few weeks before Odin had announced Thor’s coronation, before everything had gone downhill.

Loki set the pictures down, faintly aware of the bright smile on his face as he left to the common room.

The picture was framed the next day to be displayed proudly in his home in New Asgard.


End file.
